Can You Fix It?

“As much as I live I shall not imitate them or hate myself for being different to them” – Orhan Pamuk, Snow 

“The world is not ready for some people when they show up, but that shouldn’t stop anyone.” – Ashly Lorenzana

briawanderlust

The conversation started normally, casual chit chat, but then they noticed my appearance. I look fine but when I turn you can see my deformity, and this prompted them to ask why don’t I fix it? I gave my standard response that all of us with defects give but in my mind an angry conversation ensued. Why do you think I need to “fix” me? Is it because you think I’m embarrassed because you’re embarrassed for me? I’m not embarrassed, I accept it as who I am. Is it because it makes you uncomfortable? Society sucks, and people gather in their little comfortable niches where they pet each other and console themselves about how they are better than those on the outside of their circle. We’re all different and it becomes a strength that binds us rather than separates us when we accept ourselves and thereby are able to accept others. As much as this rant is focused on physical differences I’ll point out that there are mental and emotional differences between as well. It may not be easy for someone else to go through the day with a smile, or to look in a mirror and feel good, or for that matter to even get out of bed in the morning. They may not be able to enjoy a shot of liquor with their friends, or be able to put down whatever drug your experimenting with. Relationships may not come easy to them and love is nearly an impossible feat. Accept yourselves, grow the best you can, and don’t outcast people because they are different. Try to understand, then you’ll ask me how you can be like me rather than why I don’t fix it.

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Rescue

“and it was he who some fifteen feet down spotted the body of the young man  floating like uprooted seaweed, upward, a brilliant white in the underwater space, and it was he who grabbed the body under the arms and brought him up, and also he who made the young man vomit all the water he had swallowed.” ― Roberto Bolaño, 2666  

Wave after wave full of debris. It’s not just the water, it’s the stuff in the water that hurts. I’ve learned through years of playing in these waves, how to hold my breath to wait out the turbulence above. Being beneath the ocean isn’t always a bad thing, but necessary for my survival as I dive into the deep to let the rolling trouble pass. Lately I’m a land dweller and though having never entered the ocean for years, I can still learn from those water bound lessons. It’s not so much the living, the actual breathing and going through the days that brings the danger, but its the stuff that’s in the living that hurts.

There are many ways I’ve held my breath to get under the trouble. Substances, relationships, danger seeking (i.e. adrenaline junkie), have all held me below. With all this avoidance and struggle its nice when I see a boat. That’s how God intervened in my life. He sailed through the storm and found me gurgling and diving just to survive the day. With loving hands he picked me up, asking nothing from me. I never made promises to Big Daddy (that’s my affectionate name for God), saying “I’ll do this or that if you save me”, I was just a panic ridden, scared to death young man who needed the rescuing power of God which He was happy to provide.

You may not appreciate this power to rescue but believe me, when trouble comes and your life ebbs, you’ll grab any hand. Though not just anyone could save me because I have this tendency to jump right back into the frothy waters, that’s all I knew how to do. His hand not only rescued me but gently held me in the boat long enough to help me expel the water I swallowed and show me that I can ride the waves for exhilaration. That’s the wonder and love I have for Big Daddy, he teaches me a better way. So here I go, pushing ahead to the other side fully aware that though I feel like the waters will swallow me, I’ll still be saved.

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First published in Opinions Of Eye